


View from Heaven

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-07
Updated: 2006-09-07
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: [One shot] Whats it like to know imminent death?





	View from Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

“I’m sorry.”

_Eyes are feeling heavy_

_but they never seem to close_

_The fan blades on the ceiling spin_

_but the air is never cold_

_And even though you are next to me_

_I still feel so alone_

_I just can't give you anything for you to call your own_

His whispered, pained voice cut through the silence. Moonlight streamed through the opening in the curtains. Sliver light flooded the room, pooling on the floor. The small room revealed a bed, a dresser and a mirror.

 On the bed lay a couple. Mussed white blond hair was intertwined with bushy brown strands. He lowered his forehead to her hair, inhaling the familiar shampoo that she used since she was sixteen. He circled his arms around her protectively. Tightened his lock until she could barely breathe. Still she didn’t make a sound. He could feel her breathing; deep, steady breaths. He knew this was her way of pretending to be calm when she was actually not. After years together, he knew her inside out. When she was mad her eyes would flash with fury, and she’d start clenching her hands. Long, slender fingers would be curled into a tight ball held rigidly by her sides. You had to watch your words, or that ball of knuckles might just land on your face. In their third year he’d gotten a punch in his face. Hell, that had _hurt_. 

Remembering that now, Draco’s lips curved into a bittersweet smile against her. He’d been such a bastard when he was thirteen. He still was, but he was a changed man. He was going over to the Good side. Later on, when the sun broke, he was going to the Dark Lord to tell him that he wasn’t fighting on the Dark side anymore.

And that was the reason for Hermione’s cold indifference towards him. “We’re fine the way we are,” she’d said. “I don’t mind running from them. Lucius and Voldemort will definitely massacre you when you tell them you’re changing sides. I absolutely forbid you to go!”

Her voice had risen to a crescendo as she’d yelled at him. Her throat hurt from the screaming. She’d balled up her fists and nearly hit him in her rage. They’re argued. Badly. Hexes, plates and glasses had been thrown at his head, for Hermione Granger could be a violent woman when necessary. When the initial rage and anger had died down, she felt terribly sad. A horrible ache overwhelmed her, consumed her and left her half dead. Knowing that the man she loved so dearly was going to _die_. He was going to be killed with a single curse, with no one to mourn his passing except her. He was going to die _alone_ ; he was going to leave this world without her. 

Now, lying in bed with her lover, terrible thoughts were running through her head.  Fear and trepidation was coursing through her. She wasn’t sure how she was going to face the rest of her life alone, if Draco was killed. The thought of Draco cold and lifeless, lying in a dungeon, murdered in cold blood was too much for her to bear. The thought of holding Draco in her arms, weeping over his death stabbed her in the heart like a rusty knife. Waves of terror crashed over her, and fear gripped her heart with an iron hand. A rising tide of dread arose in her. She willed herself to be strong, not to break down. A couple of tears leaked out from the corner of her eyes. They followed the contours of her face, running towards her chin. More welled up and followed the path down her face. Inexorably, a tiny sob was wrenched from her. In the silence of the night that tiny sob was magnified and Draco’s sharp ears caught the sound.

His heart broke. The sob tore right into his very soul. He knew what he was going to do was wrecking her. It was like an angry beast, ripping her apart from the inside. It was breaking her down, tearing away her defenses, leaving her shattered inside.

He murmured, “I have to do this, love. I want to marry you and give you a proper life, and a proper home, not this godforsaken dump. I don’t want our kids to grow up like fugitives. I’ll come back, I promise. I won’t leave you here alone.”

Those whispered words only made her sob even harder. The knife twisted in her heart, and pushed in deeper. Tears fell more rapidly. A throbbing pain grew in her chest. Her throat ached from the sobbing. Her head hurt.

 

 ooo

 

Morning came quickly. The sunlight replaced the moonlight. A beam shone on Hermione’s face. She blinked twice. In a flash, the previous night’s events came back to her. She wished with her heart that it was a dream. Slowly she turned her head to the left. The rumpled pillow and empty space greeted her mockingly, like a smirk in her face. A single rose lay on the pillow, and a sheet of paper. She sat up and picked up the paper. Five words in elegant script were written on the paper: “I’ll be back, my love.” 

The familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. She clutched the paper in her fingers tightly, certain that she would never see the owner of the words.  She sank down and allowed the tears to flow freely.

 

ooo

 

He pushed the door open. The rusty door creaked. There, on the bed, sat Hermione Granger, face buried in her knees, sobbing her heart out. He lowered his hood, revealing his face. Hearing the creak, Hermione turned, face alight with hope. The second she saw his face, a mask of terror lowered itself on her features. Her back stiffened, and she grabbed her wand that was sitting beside her. Before she could hurl any hex, he sent a spell in her direction.Green light blinded her vision. A momentary sting of pain enveloped her body. Her last thought was, “Where is Draco?” before her limp body fell in a graceful arc backwards, hitting the hard mattress with a muted thump. Then she was motionless. A fine mist hovered over her body as her soul left her body. 

Her killer stared at the body with cold blooded hate, muttering, and “Mudblood whore.” And he spun on his heel and left. 

 

ooo

 

“I’m back!” Draco announced. The meeting with the Dark Lord and Lucius had gone surprisingly well. They had threatened that he would regret it. But those were empty threats, they were obviously untrue.

“Hermione? Where are you?” he called out. The silent house replied him. He entered their bedroom, the one he had left just hours before. He stepped over to her. She lay peacefully on their bed. He climbed up beside her and shook her gently. There was no reaction. He shook her harder. Still she lay motionless. Sensing something amiss, he took her hand. It was slightly warm. But she wasn’t breathing. She had no pulse. 

Horrified, Draco grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her violently. “Stop this joke,” he begged. “Wake up, I’m back, just like I promised, wake up now. I love you, wake up, wake up!” 

Still she lay still and unmoving. He cradled her body against his as he rocked back and forth, chanting, “Wake up, wake up, wake up.” He tightened his hold on her, already feeling the warmth seeping away from her body. A part of him was disconnected from this reality, calculating the details, avoiding the fact that his love was gone. Her body was still warm, meaning that she died not long ago. He was probably just minutes too late. Seconds, perhaps. As facts clicked and connected, his heart ached dully. A slow throbbing ache that spread over his body and numbed his senses. The world seemed to fall away as he held the woman he loved in his arms. 

 

ooo

 

_Feel your fire,_

_when its cold in my heart and things sorta start_

_Reminding' me of my last night with you_

_I only need one more day_

_Just one more chance to say_

_I wish that I had gone up with you too_

_And I’m sure the view from Heaven_

_beats the hell out of mine here_

_and if we all believe in Heaven_

_Maybe we'll make it through one more year_

_Down here You wont be coming back_

_And I didn't get to say goodbye_

_I really wish I got to say goodbye_

_and I’m sure the view from Heaven_

_Beats the hell out of mine here_

_And if we all believe in Heaven_

_Maybe we'll make it through one more year_

ooo

 

“It’s been one year six months. I miss you. I love you. I still do, I will, till the day I die. Do you remember the vows we made? That we’d love each other until the end of time. “If there was such a thing,” you said. You were always such a cynical romantic. You told me that living the life of a fugitive was so romantic, so story like. But we couldn’t continue living like that, do you understand? Our dreams were to have a big family and live in a proper house; one filled with laughter and joy. Do you remember? I shouldn’t have gone to them. I regret it. I’d do anything to bring you back, . Merlin, I miss you. I miss your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled, the way you kissed me. _Hell_ , I even miss the punches you threw at me when you were mad. I miss you with all my heart. ” 

 

Draco stood at the gravestone of Hermione Granger. Lush green grass surrounded it. In the beginning he came here everyday. He’d talk to her for hours, telling her how much he missed her, how much he wished that he could go to Heaven with her. But what he didn’t tell her was that he was living a life void of color. He was living a life of Firewhiskies and drunken stupors.

 “I’m lost without you here, Hermione. I need you. Can you hear me?”

Draco sank to his knees, sobbing, for the painful shard of glass embedded in his heart cut even deeper. He doubled over, choking on his tears, half sobbing, half crying. Anyone who walked by would have shaken their heads at the unshaven, uncouth man who was once Draco Malfoy. 


End file.
